At my 20 year school reunion a few weeks back I was told by a friend, whom I hadn’t seen in all those 20 years, that she remembered me as an eccentric and interesting person. Then she asked how I was.
So I answered “Still eccentric and interesting!” because I am witty and original like that.
No, really, I am (eccentric and interesting that is, not witty and original, that was a lie). I shall prove it to you. Liz has tagged me with the seven random or weird facts meme which seems the perfect way to make my case.
1. Link the person who tagged you.
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. Share seven random or weird facts about yourself.
4. Tag seven others and include links to their blogs.
5. Let each of the other people know by commenting on their blogs.
Right, here goes:
- When I was little I had a teddy bear (as one does) that started life as a properly fuzzy and fluffy beast. He eventually ended up stark nekkid with every bit of fluff removed. I was a fluff picker, blankets, woollen jumpers, stuffed toys, nothing was safe. I would pick the fluff off and then play with it rolling it in my fingers and pulling it apart over and over. Actually, I still do. I’m pretty sure it’s a coping mechanism for anxiety, if I don’t have fluff to play with I get noticeably tense. These days, in order to save my blankets and clothes from destruction I buy bags of the stuffing you put in stuffed toys and play with that. I figure it’s not such a terrible bad habit to have, beats fingernail biting or smoking.
- My favourite insect is the praying mantis. I love the way they look at you with their head tilted to one side, and how they like to be at the highest point and so will walk up your arm and sit on your head if you let them, and their lovely green colouring, and! and! and! Look, they’re just awesome, ok? I was so excited one year when a whole bunch of them hatched in our garage, there were hundreds of teeny tiny mantises all making their way along the wall and out the garage door.
- I have expended a significant amount of effort in avoiding knowing my kids astrological signs. The mere mention of the word astrology raises my hackles and triggers attacks of severe sarcasm. It drove me NUTS that often, when the kids were tiny, one of the first questions people would ask on being introduced to them was “what star sign is s/he?”
- I don’t like babies. Not even my own. I loved them as babies of course, insanely, deeply, completely, but I couldn’t wait for them to grow up and become walking, talking, rational beings. I have never in my life felt “clucky” and I’m yet to feel the “they’re growing up so fast” sadness that seems almost ubiquitous amongst my friends and relatives.
- Almost all babies think I’m hysterically funny. They look at me and grin, or even giggle. I think it’s because I’m prone to making silly faces almost constantly.
- I like snakes. I’m hoping Tom will let me organise a reptile party for his birthday next year because I have never held a snake and I figure if I’m paying for the gig I ought to get a cuddle with one of the stars. I’ve touched plenty of snakes, but always with someone else holding them. The only reason I wouldn’t get a pet snake is that unless a pet is able to ask for attention I’m quite likely to forget they exist. (There’s a reason there’s only one fish in our enormous fish tank.
- I’m an unapologetically fat, hairy legged (though this is subject to change without notice), left-wing, sceptical, atheist, feminist, sci-fi reading, Whedon obsessive, twittering blogger. And, although that that makes me perfectly normal here amongst other equally interesting and eccentric folks, out there in the much narrower world of so called real life it makes me positively weird.
(Quirk no. 8: I don’t do the tagging thing with memes because I
am too lazy don’t want to leave anyone out, so if you’re feeling like sharing, consider yourself tagged.)